


Drunk History, vol. 206

by skivvysupreme



Category: Glee
Genre: Drunkenness, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-23
Updated: 2015-09-23
Packaged: 2018-04-23 02:20:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4859426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skivvysupreme/pseuds/skivvysupreme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Kurt gets drunk AF and tells the story of how he and Blaine got together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drunk History, vol. 206

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by Chris Colfer's tweet about wanting to go on Drunk History :D

Elliott has never heard the story of how Kurt and Blaine met. He’s heard the story—rather, both stories—of how they got back together, but he has no knowledge of that original, fateful moment. He realizes this when he’s knee-deep in margaritas and shots with Kurt, a mess of limes and salt strewn all over the coffee table next to a bottle of Jose Cuervo. So, he asks for the story.

It should be said, at this point, that Elliott can hold his tequila better than Kurt can.

"Just start from the beginning." 

"I was—everything was awful, okay? It was really bad. Really bad. And Mr. Schue's—he was being an idiot. Okay?"

"Okay, Kurt."

"And I was scared all the time and I hated McKinley so much and nobody was listening. And nobody app— _hic!_ —appreciates Bob Mackie, Elliott, you need to know that. I know you do and that's why we're friends, but that's integral. Super important. To what happened next."

"Got it. What happened next?"

"Puck—fuck—Noah Puckerman, you haven't met him, but he slept with everybody and he dated Rachel 'cause they’re Jewish and had a baby with Quinn and he used to be an asshole—"

"Sweetie, I _have_ met Puck... he comes to visit with Quinn sometimes, remember?"

"Oh... haha. Ha. I'm so drunk, sorry. It's like—It’s like—you know what it's like?"

"What's it like, Kurt?"

"It's like my brain is in the past with the sad times so it forgot about right now. But—where was I? Puck. Okay. Super important. Puck does not appreciate Bob Mackie. So he said, 'This is too gay and we don't wanna get infected with gayness because of your fabulous feathered headpiece and flawlessly put together aes—aesthetic board because it's gay, you're too GAY, Kurt!'"

"Is that what he said? I doubt that’s what he said."

"Yeah, that's—that is what he said. You met grown-up Puck. He’s different now. But back then, then he said, "Go spy on the Warblers. Jus' go do it. GOOOOO.' So I put on a reeeeally good disguise and I went. And that's when—oh god, everything changed, I—shit—" Kurt puts both hands on the side of his face, pressing his palms against his flushed cheeks.

"You okay, sweetie?"

"Yeah, I'm... okay. Sorry. Okay. So. I was going down the stairs and there were boys everywhere going in the same direction like a school of fish—you know it’s that thing in _Finding Nemo_ that makes the shapes?"

"I know."

"They were like that. I was looking for the Warblers and I... I don’t know why I stopped this one par—particular fish—I mean, boy, but...I did, and—oh my god..."

Kurt starts to cry, his flushed face scrunched up and his eyes wet and pleading for Elliott to understand… something…

"Whoa, honey, what is it?"

"He turned around and smiled and said his name is Blaine and the sun came out, like, _inside the building_ , the sun came out, and he was so beautiful—"

"Shhh, don't cry, here, have some water. Breathe."

"Oh god, I'm so drunk and I—I love him so much—"

"I know you do. He loves you, too. Drink the water."

Kurt pauses, holding himself steady with one hand on the arm of the couch as he slowly drinks the entire glass of water. Elliott takes this opportunity to text Blaine.

**Hey, rehearsal over? Your hubby’s shitfaced. No worries, taking care of him, just fyi**

**_Yeah almost there, be home in a few. Thx for your help and letting me know_ **

When he sees that Kurt has drained the glass and is now leaning his head on his hand where it’s propped up on the arm of the couch, Elliott pockets his phone and asks, "Better?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Do you want to lie down and go to sleep, and you can just tell me the story later?"

Kurt sets the empty glass on the coffee table, then shifts himself on the couch and lies down. "I wanna tell it now. I'm—I'm good, I swear."

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

"Okay. So, he introduced himself, and then what?"

"Blaine, he held my hand and took me down this hallway to get to the Warblers 'cause he knew where they were. And it was like—it felt like we were running in slow motion or something 'cause it was like a fantasy and I couldn't believe it, a cute boy just took my hand like he wasn't scared to touch me, and it, it meant so much. Boys at McKinley acted like I was a leopard."

"...A leper?"

"That's—yes, that's what I said."

“Right. Then what?"

"The Warblers sang, and Blaine was, he was so sneaky, he acted like he was just another student, but he was their LEADER. But then he was telling me, and I know he was telling me, specif— _hic!_ —specifically, 'cause he looked right at me the whole time and he winked at me and I wanted to just float away with him."

"What was he telling you?”

Kurt wiggles in place on the couch and starts singing, miraculously on pitch considering how drunk he is. " _I'mma get your heart ra-ciiiing in my skintight jeeeeans, be your teenage dream tonight, let you put your hands on meeee in my_ —I can put my hands on him, he said. He's my teenage dream. But forever now. And I’d seen so many performances before, but I never—felt like that. I never felt the song go into my chest the way he put that one there. Even when he did it really sad, when—ugh, when things were bad, it was still our song. We have a song, Elliott."

"I know, Kurt."

"So, he became my best friend and—“ Kurt sniffles. “—he helped me find my courage. I had it in me the whole time but Karofsky made me forget because—“ He sniffles again. “—made me feel powerless, I was so scared, I can't even express—"

"Shhh, it’s okay, you don't have to. I get it."

"I want another shot."

Elliott holds the bottle out of Kurt’s reach. "No, Kurt, sweetheart, you're _wasted_ —”

"My apartment, my tequila, my decision. Go home if it bothers you. I—wait, no, I didn’t mean that, don't leave, I'm sorry—"

"How about this: if you finish the story, you can have another. Deal?" Elliott hopes—prays—that Kurt will lose steam before he earns that shot.

Kurt nods. "Where was I?"

"Blaine became your best friend."

"Yes. YES. And then we did everything together and it made Mercedes start a tater-tot war because she was the third wheel and—I didn’t mean to, I just liked Blaine so much and I thought he liked me. But. He didn’t. He didn’t see me like that. And there was this guy at the Gap who hated spontaneous musical numbers so Blaine really shoulda known that wasn't a good fit—and, and there was almost Rachel for a second—"

"What?!"

"And then my bird died—Blaine gave me a bird and he had a stroke and died, he just—fell over while we were singing, just a tiny yellow—he made a little thump noise in his cage, he was so—he was my friend, he— _Pavarotti_..."

"Shhh, no, don't cry, it’s okay—“

"No, just—give it here, let me—“

"Nuh-uh, no more shots until you finish the story, Kurt. We had a deal."

"Okay." Kurt takes a second, breathes deep. “I was decorating the casket for the funeral, and Blaine came in and said we should practice for our song—“

"Your song? Teenage Dream?"

"Noooo, not that one, he picked a breakup song about candles for us to sing. He came and found me and said he'd been looking for me. _Forever._ Like, not just then so we could practice, but like, all his life. And I _moooove_ him." Kurt hiccups again, and curls himself around a throw pillow. "You know, Harry and Sally get together, in the end."

"Yeah, they do."

"So. Blaine. He got close and touched my face and kissed me. And it wasn't like all the girl kisses and the scary kisses I had. Blaine—I could feel it, I could feel how much he wanted me, and I wanted him back so much and it was like, I finally—I could have who I wanted..."

"Kurt—"

"Don't tell me not to cry, Elliott! I love him so much and we both fucked up so many times but we always—It’s just like he said, he knew it, we choose each other, we choose to come back and fall in love over and over again for—forever, for eternity, that's—He forgets how much I love him sometimes, but he— _he’s precious to me_ —"

Kurt curls tighter around the pillow, burying his nose in it, and starts sobbing.

"Okay honey, come here, shhh.” Elliott squeezes himself onto the couch next to Kurt and rubs his back. He feels the faint urge to laugh, but the urge to swoon at how intensely Kurt and Blaine feel about each other outweighs it. “He’s on his way home, he'll be here any minute now."

"Oh, oh no, I'm a mess, I'm—“

"He loves you. He won't care. I mean, he will care, but not like that."

"Promise?"

"Yeah."

True to Elliott’s word, they hear the click of the lock on the front door, and Blaine walks in.

"BLAINE!"

"Oh my god." Blaine shuts the door behind him and drops his bag on the floor, casting a bemused smile at Elliott after his initial, concerned glance at Kurt.

Elliott shrugs and says, "Told you."

"Blaine. Blaine, come here.” Kurt doesn’t wait for Blaine to come to him, instead choosing to wriggle his way off the couch and run on unsteady feet towards his husband. He throws himself into Blaine’s arms and murmurs, “Blaine, I wanna tell you something. It's super important." He yawns.

"Hey, baby... why don't we go to our room and get ready for bed, hmm?" Blaine widens his eyes at Elliott over Kurt’s shoulder, mouths _thank you_ and says, "Elliott, please crash here tonight. You know where the extra blankets and pillows are."

Kurt buries his face in Blaine's neck and sighs, "Mm-hmm, bed with you. Sounds good."

When Elliott's comfortable and settled on the couch, and all the lights in the apartment are off, and the thankfully forgotten bottle of tequila is back in the refrigerator, he hears it, their soft voices barely audible from their cracked bedroom door:

"Baby, you still want to tell me something? You said it was super important."

"Mm-hmm, yeah... I love you. Was scared you forgot."

Blaine laughs, and Elliott hears the soft smack of his lips against Kurt’s. "I won't forget that. But thanks for reminding me. I love you, too."


End file.
